Belmont Citizen-Herald: July 21, 2016
My wife and I really aren’t bicyclists. We had let our bikes gather dust in the garage for several years, victims of the “tomorrow-I’ll-have-more-time” syndrome. Unfortunately, as Annie says, “tomorrow is always a day away.”
But, having passed the milestone of “turning 60” awhile back, and now moving ever so surely toward “comfortably in our 60s,” this summer, in a nod toward keeping fit, we pulled our bikes down off their hooks, had them tuned-up at Wheelworks, and declared ourselves ready to explore the western ‘burbs and beyond.
On a recent Saturday afternoon, we headed down the Goden Street hill –not worrying, yet, about how we would get back up it—glided around the High School parking lot, and were surprised at how quickly we reached Alewife using the path along the train tracks. We then hung a left and headed out toward Lexington on the Minuteman Trail.
That’s when the day’s education began. Our ride on this warm summer day was an experiential lesson, a class on the difference between a “bike path” and a “community path.”
For our voyage, we intentionally waited until late afternoon, thinking that we might perhaps miss the bulk of the day’s traffic. But the users of the Minuteman Trail surpassed all expectations. There were walkers galore, ranging from young adults to the aged. Single walkers, couples, families with young children aplenty.
Some groups of people ambled, clearly enjoying each other’s company; other folks were plugged into their headphones, removed from the world around them.
People traveled on wheels as well. Some were pushed in strollers, while others glided on blades. One little boy pulled a classic little red wagon, though I couldn’t tell whether his passenger was a Teddy Bear or a puppy. A young girl with training wheels pedaled furiously to keep up with her parents.
Not everyone was exceedingly careful. Just as I was getting comfortable in looking up and around, in addition to straight ahead, as I plodded along, two 10-year olds raced by, their attention focused exclusively on some finish line existing only in their imaginations.
There were the serious bikers, who view their cycles as a mode of transportation, while there were others, like us, who view their cycles as a mode of exercise.
I’ve followed the community path debate in Belmont in recent years. I’ve attended the meetings, studied the maps, read the reports. But, as my wife and I rode along that day, it struck me that I was experiencing exactly what Belmont’s community path advocates have been seeking to communicate for years. We weren’t simply on a bike path. We were on a path that promoted community cohesion and shared community experiences.
In my mind, I tried to lift that trail out of the woods through Arlington and Lexington, and place it along Concord Ave. in Belmont. I couldn’t make it happen. I just couldn’t place someone pushing their stroller down that busy thoroughfare. I couldn’t see a dad worrying about his young daughter’s biking skills on a quality-time jaunt while the cars whizz by. I could see two tweens obliviously darting their bikes into traffic as they pass the “old guy” poking along as he rode.
Try as I might, I just couldn’t envision that path, with the community members we were passing, located along Concord Avenue.
If you don’t understand why siting part of Belmont’s community path along Concord Ave. is unsatisfactory, I invite you to spend a few hours some summer afternoon traversing the Minuteman Trail starting at Alewife. You, too, will experience the meaning of a true community path and what it would mean to Belmont.